


The Train Journey

by 14sherlockianwhovianpotterhead14



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hounds of Baskerville, Train journey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/14sherlockianwhovianpotterhead14/pseuds/14sherlockianwhovianpotterhead14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How I imagine the train journey to Dartmoor would have been. Sherlock is like a small child, and John feels like a parent. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Train Journey

A.N: First Sherlock fic! Please be nice to me :) just how I imagined the train journey to Henry Knight's to be.

'John.'

'John.'

'John-'

'What, Sherlock?

John looked up in irritation. He nursed a cup of tea in one hand, and a copy of a paper that had been abandoned on the train in another. He flipped the page, glancing down at the crossword. 

Sherlock, on the other hand, had nothing to occupy his mind. He'd already deduced the life of everybody in the carriage - and in fact, the whole train. When he'd gotten bored the first time, he'd gone up and down the train as fast as possible, deducing the life of everybody on board. Even the driver; that had taken some explaining. John felt like a parent, clearing up Sherlock's behaviour. 

'I'm bored.'

'I'm sure you are, but I think you can handle thirty more minutes of boredom.'

'Thirty minutes?' Sherlock exclaimed. Quite loudly, too; some of the passengers gave him alarmed looks. The little boy at the back cringed into his mother. 

'Yes, thirty minutes. Play your violin,' John replied absentmindedly. After a second, he seemed to realise what he'd said.

'No, wait, Sherlock,' John began, but the consulting detective had already pulled down the luggage case bearing his violin. He hadn't left it in Baker Street, of course not; how could he leave his prized possession behind? The skull was also buried in Sherlock's bag.

'Sherlock,' John said again, but Sherlock ignored him.

The other passengers of the train didn't seem to know what to make of the tall man with the violin, so they remained quiet, just observing.

Sherlock pulled out his violin case and pulled out the beautiful instrument. He fitted his shoulder rest to the instrument and placed it to his neck.

One of Sherlock's own compositions drifted through the carriage, the notes quietly soothing.

The two children in the carriage drifted to sleep. Their mother looked on in amazement.

The other occupants of the carriage seemed to visible relax, even the two with high pressure jobs.

After a few minutes, Sherlock got bored.

The melodies became more dramatic, the bow scraping across the strings to make the notes darker and more mysterious. The children woke up and seemed more lively than ever. The others in the carriage grew tense.

John noticed.

'Sherlock,' he said, his voice very loud over the melody.

Sherlock stopped playing, and everything grew quiet. Deathly quiet.

'Yes?' He asked.

'Shall we play I Spy instead?' John asked.

Sherlock glanced around the room.

'Coffee,' he said after a moment.

'How did you - never mind,' John muttered. 'What about...'

'Trees,' drawled Sherlock. Bored, again. 

Sherlock began scraping out dramatic notes again.

'Sherlock?'

'What?'

John thought for a moment, before sighing in defeat.

'I brought Cluedo.'

The whole carriage seemed to breath a sigh of relief as Sherlock returned his violin to its case and sat opposite John, who wearily began to assemble the board.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for looking, this is my first AO3 fic :) originally this is from my fanfiction account, but it's revamped for AO3.


End file.
